


Beginnings

by ThistleKat



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThistleKat/pseuds/ThistleKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night spent in a trailer during the shooting of season one.<br/>[...] Sam ducked in, closing the ramshackly door behind him. He looked lost, as though he’d not expected to get this far. [...]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever try at fan fiction, and my mother tongue is German, so I’m sorry for any queer use of words or spelling mistakes.  
> As said above, this is a work of fiction. We don’t really know anything of the two of them, but apparently there has been a lot of distress for some fans in the last weeks. I only know I’d be happy if they were a couple, and that’s why I wrote this.

From out of the trailer window, Caitriona could see dusk settling. It had been a long day shooting in the highlands, always a bit wet, a bit cold. Schedule today had been part of the rent journey, and it had drizzled all the way through. The boys cheered her up though, with their childish humour and their quick laughs and bawdy comments. Sam too. Sam most of all, actually. But she dismissed that thought as soon as it appeared. It was all still a bit much to take - her being cast as the female lead of a show that promised worldwide recognition, a career she never dared dream of, and just possibly a completely new life. And in the midst of it all, her costar. Her chivalrous, strong, witty, clever, fucking handsome costar. Yet again, she remembered a talk she had early on with Maril, and how she’d politely but insistently told Caitriona to cross of Sam from her dating list. Cait had laughed then, assuring her anxious producer that Sam had never been on that list. But of late… Her thoughts went to him often and unbidden. When they shared their break, her eyes locked on him somehow, and how she felt like a stupid teenage girl when he caught her gaze. She decided she had enough of unsettling thoughts. Standing up, she shook out the folds of the simple jersey dress she’d changed into after shooting. It was past time to call a taxi to Glasgow, but she hesitated, finger hovering over the phone. Her room in this new city was a lonely place. Maybe the crew had some plans for the evening? Then suddenly - a knock, almost shy.

 _Damn. Why hadn’t he just got in the taxi with Grant and Stephen and the others? Maybe a stiff drink would’ve helped settling his racing mind. Actually - of course it wouldn’t have, and he knew it fine. No turning back now, he supposed, he_ had _knocked. And so soft as to be barely audible over the rain, dammit. He’d meant to be confident, to hide his fears… To hell, he couldn’t. She made him feel like a great fool. Maybe he should just hope she hadn’t heard? Walk away and find the guys – but she had heard. Cait opened the door slowly, hair tousled and face flushed and eyes bright with shock. And joy?!_

“Ah… Hi Cait. Thought… Thought we could share a bit of wine? Wasn’t feeling like going home just now. But if you have other plans…” He looked haunted. And - screw it - so good, his hair falling back, wet where he raced his hands through it nervously. He had changed kilt for jeans, and held out a bottle of wine – fine stuff, by the looks of it – awkwardly between them. She took it from him, letting the door swing open. “Actually – no. Come in before you’re drenched!”, she blurted, but inside she felt just a bit like turning to liquid. They hadn’t ever done something like this, together… alone. Sam ducked in, closing the ramshackly door behind him. He looked lost, as though he’d not expected to get this far. “Well, the cot?”, she suggested, and dugged up two respectable glasses from her cupboard. Sam shed his jacket and gingerly sat down. When he moved, his shoulders strained against the black t-shirt he wore, and she tried her hardest not to stare at him. As she lowered herself to the cot, he gratefully took over the task of pouring them wine. They sat crosslegged, night now fully around them, the constant rain pattering on the roof of the trailer. Their glasses _clinked_ , but Sam remained silent, watching her with those light blue eyes that made her cheeks burn. “So?”, she managed, throat dry. “So.” He drank and grinned, and she eased with it. “What d’you think of Grants riding skills today?” And she had to bark out a laugh, because their colleague had thrown himself off his horse and into a large puddle of mud this afternoon.  
Like this, they did a recap of the shooting block, chuckling and goofing around like kids. Then they’d still, listening to the downpour, and after some moments, they’d reach out again, drawn by some insatiable curiosity. She certainly didn’t admit it to herself, but she hung on his every word, be it serious or lighthearted. It was like browsing a fine book, she supposed, and she was unwilling to skip a chapter now. Caitriona felt completely at peace with him, and tumbled to the fact that with him was possibly the only time she felt like this. As they drained their wine, she became aware of their slow movement towards each other. They’d crossed the little space between them in no time. If she wanted to, she could touch his hands easily. “Ach now, I think it’s empty. Such a shame. Hmm, maybe I should…” Feeling giddy, she did touch his hands, which stopped him in his tracks.

_It was a simple touch, but it felt like singeing to him. Cait looked a little shocked, too. “Sam, I…”, she whispered, breaking off. And before his brain could come up with reasoning or consideration, he leant forward to kiss her. “Don’t talk.” Their lips touched, and she froze. For a moment he thought he mucked it all up. But then she opened for him, letting him deepen their kiss, and her hands slowly trailed across his body. She leaned towards him sighing. He began to kiss her hard then, exploring and demanding her mouth, and a deep need took hold of him when she began to moan. His hands wandered, he couldn’t help grasping her breasts, trying to caress her nipples in spite of her clothes. When she whimpered, he broke off. Snatching it up over her head, he freed her from the dress. And then she was there, right in front of him, wearing only a bra and a string, her breath ragged and her eyes on fire. “God. Cait, you look so beautiful. I... Ye have to… This means something to me, ken?” Ken? Of course, his accent always thickened when all coherent thought left him. He was desperate, he wanted to make her understand just how much this mattered to him, how much she mattered to him._

God in heaven, had he any idea how staggering he looked? How his touch made her feel, what his words triggered in her? “I know.”, she answered. “Because I feel the same. Pull that off.”, she demanded, and without ever taking those glinting eyes of hers, Sam doffed his shirt. Although she’d seen his body many times before, she deeply enjoyed the display. The graceful swell of his muscles, his flat stomach, the hair on his chest… “Like what ye see?”, he asked, his voice hoarse, and under his smug tone a trace of doubt that squeezed her heart. “Very much.”, she assured him, and went to her knees in front of the cot. Sam looked dumbfounded, so she gently laid her hand where she saw his cock pulsing against his jeans. He drew in a breath sharply and obligingly swung his legs down. She hadn’t even finished taking off his belt and jeans when his large hands came down on her head and tangled in her curls. She saw his need clearly through his boxers, so she shed those quickly too. What a view. She nibbled at his long length, stroking his balls, running the tip of her tongue along it in a testing way. “Oh, please!”, he breathed, tensing. When she finally closed her mouth on him, his head fell back and he groaned lowly, his hands urging her on. She continued to stroke and tease him, and he trembled under her touch.

_When he couldn’t possibly take it any longer, he pulled her to her feet. Despite what she’d just done to him, she looked up sheepishly, and he couldn’t help a stupid grin. Then he gathered her in his arms, grazing her back and arse and kissing his way from her earlobe to her collarbone. He relished her body and marvelled at the feel of her skin under his fingers. At long last. A bit of worrying at the clasp, and her bra fell down. She drew back a little, slightly shuddering, and as he still contemplated her stunning grace, she took his hand and placed it firmly on her breast. He heard himself growl, and then he picked her up and carried her to the cupboard. Kneading her tender skin brought him gasps, and sucking her nipples low groans. Her hands fastened around his neck, drawing him closer. He bit her then, gently, and her sweet hiss made him harder still, if that was even possible. “My turn now.”, he whispered, and dropped to his knees, taking off her lacy underwear. God, she was wet, and so ready for his touch._

She’d lost her ability to speak a while ago, but she was dimly aware that she still emitted a lot of noise. Sam knelt in front of her, and he drove her absolutely crazy. He’d started ever so gently, his fingers barely even skimming her skin, but then he’d kissed her on her clit, taking his bloody time with it. That was when she cried out, and he took to licking her earnestly, fucking her slowly with his fingers, kindling her aching for him with every deliberately slow stroke of his tongue. His left hand cupped her breast, his fingers pinching and teasing her nipple. Sweet torture. He sucked her whole now, and the world reduced to his touch. Still, he made sure she wouldn’t come, and _that_ drove her crazy just a little bit more. “Do that again. Sounds… Hmm?” He let his beard rasp her, and she realised what he’d meant. “Sam, oh God. Sam!” How long had she been moaning his name?

_Confident she’d murder him if he’d waited any longer, he picked her up again and laid her down on the cot. She immediately drew him down with her, and spread her legs wide under him. That sight bereft him of the last of his wits, and he took her in a single deep thrust. Their breaths catched, faces barely separated by an inch, and he closed his eyes in pure bliss. Cait wrapped her legs around him then, drawing up her knees, allowing them to join even deeper. “Fuck me, Sam. Now!”, she pleaded softly, and that was all it took. He fucked her hard and ruthless, spearing her to the cot with each thrust. She moaned and whimpered and how she looked like now, completely open for him… It was all he could do not to lose himself on the spot. She shrieked when he used his hands to push her knees further apart. He slowed his pace a little at that, filling her out till she writhed under him. With one hand, he held her arms up above her head, the other he used to resume his rough fondling of her pussy, now feverish hot and swollen. She sighed desperately, wriggling against his grip, but he held her secure. She was completely and utterly at his mercy, and it made him dizzy to know. He continued to fuck and stroke her, and her moans grew louder by the second. She struggled fiercely now, her back taut and her hips rising to him, savouring his every touch. He wanted to release her now, to give her the pleasure she deserved, and when he thrust into her again, he did. She screamed, her whole body trembling and clenching around him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her - all because of him. She had gone limb now under him, whispering his name and searching his face with her hands. “Oh Cait.” It didn’t take long to join her then - he simply gave her everything he had. He lost control fast, only just noticing her watchful eyes, and finally spilled himself with an unsettling loud groan. The only thing that kept him from shattering was the touch of her hands. “I love you.” He wasn’t so sure if he’d heard it, or said it. Possibly both._

-

He lay next to her, eyes closed, still breathing heavy, his arm draped around her middle. Sam had burst her into a thousand pieces and then glued every single one back together, and she thought she’d never felt more alive or whole than she did now. “What… What exactly did we just do?”, she asked him after a few beats of silence. One eye opened up, and a sly smile spread across his lips. He cleared his throat and locked her in that intense blue gaze of his. “A beginning, maybe?” A deep glow lit up his eyes, and she felt tears spark behind her own. "Yes."


End file.
